


Never let me go

by TheNorthRemembers



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-03
Updated: 2013-04-03
Packaged: 2017-12-07 09:48:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/747114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheNorthRemembers/pseuds/TheNorthRemembers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is war. Robb is king. Theon is my his side. They are in love. Can it last?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never let me go

**Author's Note:**

> Please tell me what yoou think about the story! Should I continue?

„Hey there, big man? “

Theon Greyjoy turned around with the usual arrogant smile on his lips, to face the camp-follower. She wore her dirty blonde hair in two braids, like a little girl. ‘Trying to look cute’ Theon supposed. The whore had a snub nose and big brown hard eyes, not matching the girly smile she gave him, walking barefoot through the mud towards him and gathering her skirts so they wouldn’t get any dirtier than they already were.

She was…ordinary.

The whore stopped no 3 feet away from Theon, looking at him with a merry smile on her lips: “Are you looking for a bit of company m’lord? The battle awaits you tomorrow and…” she lowered her voice acting conspiratorial, “…forgive me, but there is a certain reputation preceding you, m’lord Theon Greyjoy.”  
Theon raised an eyebrow and asked: “Is that so? And what kind of…reputation?”

The girl smirked, showing white, but lightly crooked teeth. Her hand wandered to the laces of his doublet, playfully pulling them: “You are Theon Greyjoy. The ‘ward’ of Winterfell and since you’re gone… so they say… all the whores from the Wall to Moat Cailin are jobless.” She threw her head in her neck and laughed cheerfully. Theon smirked.

“I am a Greyjoy. We are famous for our skills at archery, navigation and…” he gripped the whore by her waist and tugged her closer to him “…lovemaking.” She playfully fluttered her eyelashes, acting ashamed, but her hands spoke another language, sliding down from his chest to his waistband. “What do you say, m’lord? There is nothing better than a woman before a battle, is there?” she said, gripping his cock with a teasing smile on her lips. “I could be there after the battle as well… They say there is nothing over spilling another man’s blood to get a man’s blood boiling.” 

Without breaking the eye-contact he suddenly gripped her wrist, pushing her hand away. “I’m sorry girl. Go find another whose bed you can warm tonight.”

Dumbfounded the whore stared at Theon for some seconds. As she turned to leave she said harshly: “What is wrong with you?” Any charm, be it pretended or not, had disappeared from the whore’s voice. “You think you are to fine for the one’s like me? For simple camp-whores?” she spit out. “I should be glad you refused me I really should. Who wants a kraken in chains, with so many wolves around!” Sharp as a sword her voice cut through the air, lighted by the last sunshine.

Theon pressed his lips together and his fingers clenched. Just go away, he tried to tell himself, but his feet refused to move. Instead of going away he turned around facing the whore, who still stood there with her arms crossed over her chest.

“What do you mean?” he asked ineloquently, although he thought he already knew the answer. The girl pursed her lips, raising her eyebrows. “Men talk, you know? And with a belly full of wine and two tits to squeeze they talk a lot. And there favorite talk is about other men. Ha!” she gave Theon a scornful laugh. “You men, call us women, blabbers, although you men are far worse. Do you know what they say about you? Theon of house Greyjoy?” Without waiting for him to answer she went on: “You are no ward. You’ve never been. You are nothing more than a hostage. The son of a traitor! There is ink in your veins. Not blood. Ink as black as treason. 

And the men know that. All of them. The king might tolerate your presence here but you are what you are. Nothing more than a hostage and not one single man here will hesitate when time comes and your head has to be taken.”

The whore gave him one last arrogant smile, showing her crooked (did they become even more crooked?) teeth, before she turned around and quickly disappeared in the camp-rush.

Theon remained motionless for a moment. The whore’s harsh words hadn’t revealed anything new to him. But still…it hurt. 

‘No! No it didn’t hurt!’ What could words do to him anyway? ‘No!’ But deep inside he knew the truth. And to admit it hurt even more. Because no one likes the face of truth. ‘Truth is an ugly girl’ so they say. Theon smiled bitterly, before he went to find his own way through the camp. Passing all the tents, horses, squires polishing armor, whores looking for punters. Theon knew who wouldn’t hesitate to behead him, like the whore has said. Many of them had once fought on Ned Stark’s side in Balon Greyjoy’s rebellion against the ironborns. Had sieged Pyke and had fought the battle in which not only Balon Greyjoy’s dream of the crown had died, but also two of his sons. Theon’s brothers.

‘And still here I am. Marching to war with those men who had took me from home away to give me as a ‘ward’ to the Starks. I eat with them. I drink with them. I plan with them and I fight with them. And they don’t like it. And so do I’, he thought grimly, while he passed a nervous horse, which apparently didn’t like the idea of a new shoe.

But then, finally, Theon could see the tent of the king not far away. Grey and white. The Stark’s colors. ‘Not mine. ‘

But still there he was. Because of Robb. Robb who has always been a brother to him. More than his brothers by blood had ever been. Robb whose smile was the only true one Theon ever received. Robb, king in the north. When Theon closed his eyes he could still see it. How all that big men and Lords, who had fought a hundred battles, sank to their knees in front of Robb speaking those words which hadn’t been spoken in a thousand years. ‘King in the North’. Robb had looked over the crowd and had found Theon’s eyes. He still remembered the uncertain smile Robb gave him that moment. So full of fear, honor, pride, doubt and hope. So Robb.

Robb had grown up in that moment. He was no longer just a boy who would be Lord of Winterfell someday. No, he was a grown man now. He was Robb Stark, king in the north. He was a king and most certainly the only reason why the banner men tolerated Theon being here. And he was definitely certainly the only reason why Theon wanted to be here at all.

For Robb he would fight a thousand wars.

“Theon.” Robb welcomed him, when he stepped through the entrance of the tent. Theon was sure no one else noticed the hidden tone in the way Robb said that single word. He just smiled and nodded towards Lady Stark as a greeting. She gave him a nod as well, but still looked at him with cold in her eyes. Eyes, so much like Robb’s that it hurts. 

‘Gods please don’t ever let him look at me like that.’ He thought to himself, while he sat down on his place next to Robb, ignoring the depreciative gazes the other councilmembers exchanged. He slightly bowed towards Robb saying “Your Grace.”

***

“You don't have to call me your grace when no one's around” Robb said, taking the crown off to cautiously put it on the table. There were dark shadows on his young face and the flickering torches made them look even deeper. The night has fallen on them so they had inflamed some torches to cast out at least some of the heavy darkness that hung upon them.

“As you wish your grace.” Theon teased him and convolved the maps, which were still lying on the table of the war-council.

“Theon!” Robb grumbled, but his protest only caused Theon’s grin to widen.

“But ‘your grace’ is the proper way to address a king, your grace.” He laughed and the incident with the whore from this afternoon was almost forgotten, now, when he was alone with Robb joking around. “And you are my king. Now and always.”

Robb only looked at him for a moment until his lips curled to a small smile. It was good to see Robb smile. Lately the sternness on Robb’s face had become more and more like his father’s.

“Now and always.” Robb repeated, but his eyes just wouldn’t let go of the sternness.  
With two long steps Theon crossed the distance between them and gave Robb a gentle but firm slap on the back of his head.

“Ow!” Robb rubbed the back of his head and gave Theon an irritated look. “What the hell Theon?”

“Stop it.” Theon said simply. “I mean it Robb. Stop it.”

“What?” Robb frowned. “What do you want me to stop? And by the way someone else would chop off your head for what you just did.”

Theon felt the anger building up inside him, so the words came out more harshly then he wanted when he said: “Oh gods! Here we go again! Robb Stark, King in the North! We all know it, alright? You know it, I know it, all this fucking men out there know it. YOU are our king! But except everyone else you don’t seem to be able to get this all the time! One moment you are all like ‘We gonna kill them! We are a free kingdom from now until the end of times blahblah and then again you say you just want to go home. And then you say now that I could get killed for slapping you on the back of your head although I did it a hundred times back at Winterfell and yes fuck, I get it. We aren’t at Winterfell anymore. This is war and you are a king. But then just a few minutes ago you told me that I don’t have to call you your grace when no one’s around and you say it just like it’s normal, like every king would do that but it’s not and it feels good. It feels good because in moments like that I feel like back in those days. Those days when we thought we had nothing to lose…Where are those days, Robb?” 

The last words were almost just a whisper and Theon looked down on his feet. He hadn’t meant to say all this. He really didn’t. The whore had been right. In the morning there would be a battle. He could die tomorrow. Robb could die tomorrow. He didn’t want to fight now, but still…

“I don’t know…” Robb whispered looking at Theon with his bright blue eyes. “Lost somewhere on the way?”

“Must be.” Theon mumbled a bitter laugh on his lips.

Their eyes met and Theon could see for only a brief moment everything in Robb’s eyes, he usually managed to bury deep down inside him. He had to. Theon knew that a king couldn’t allow himself the slightest bit of weakness. Robb had to prove himself everyday again. And it was eating him up. Theon pressed his lips together and made a decision. Robb had to let go. Even if it only were for one night. After all Robb was still just a 17 years old boy. 

“Well I guess that’s the best for all of us, isn’t it?” Theon said watching Robb closely. If he wanted Robb to let go he had to make him angry. “This is war and we have something to lose. Everything to be honest. Well…everyone except for you….”

Robb stared at him, first with a completely stunned expression on his face. Then slowly anger found its way on this face Theon knew so well (better than his own if he were honest). 

“What?” His king clenched his fists and Theon could see the knuckles growing white. “What by the seven hells are you talking about Theon? I could lose everything! Sansa is in King’s Landing and I might never see her again! The Lannisters could kill her every day!” 

‘Good. Go on.’

“They could kill my little sister, Theon!” 

‘Right, Robb. Come on. Give in. It’s okay.’

”And Arya! Gods Arya! Is she even still alive?? I don’t know where she is. Do the Lannisters still have her? And if yes… why haven’t they said a single word about her yet?” 

‘It’s okay. You can be weak. Let the despair come.’

“If I lose this war I lose everything! And with me my family and the North!! I am a king! I bear the responsibility for every single man out there on my shoulders! I am their king!!” 

‘You may be a king…but you are still a human as well.’

By now they stood only mere inches apart. Theon could feel the rising anger in Robb’s breath that hit his face. He could see it in his bright blue eyes and the trembling of his fists. 

“Yes! You are their fucking king!! You are leading them to war!” Theon almost shouted now.

“I am leading them to war!” Robb shouted back. “I know that!”

“And why?? Because of what? Because of what Robb? Because of honor? Because of pride?” 

‘Come on Robb! You know why and I know why. Just tell me. You need this. You need to hear your one voice say it or you’ll forget. And if you forget the guilt is going to kill you.’

“Because of justice!!” Robb screamed gripping Theon’s collar. “Because they killed my father! I didn’t want any of this!! BECAUSE OF JUSTICE! “ 

‘That’s right. You gotta remember this’.

‘Just a bit more.’ Theon thought trying not to give in under Robb’s wrathful eyes. With a scornful tone in his voice he asked: “So? Because of justice? Whose justice? Yours? You tell me all this men out there follow a green boy like you because this boy says ‘Well guys that’s justice let’s go die far from home it’s gonna be fun!’? Why should they follow your fucking justice??” 

“Because they swore an oath!” Robb’s voice trembled with anger in a way Theon had never heard it from him ever before. ” Because they loved my father!”

‘Not as much as I love you.’

“It’s their justice as well!” with those words Robb finally finally crushed their lips together.

Their kiss wasn’t gentle. Not at all. It was hard, it was rough, like the most of their kisses. All teeth and tongue, heated with all the built up anger and frustration. 

Theon’s hands grabbed Robb’s hair and pressed their bodies closer together. They stumbled backwards and as they parted, both panting and breathless, Theon could feel the edge of the table pressing hard into his lower spine. But he couldn’t get himself to care. Robb’s eyes were lust blown so the blue iris was barely visible. Theon smirked, gripping Robb’s belt tugging him closer.

With his free hand Theon grabbed Robb’s manhood through his breeches and asked without breaking the eye-contact “Do you want me to-“ 

But Robb didn’t answer. He just smashed Theon’s hand away, causing his wrist to ache immediately. Then Robb let out an animalistic growl, full of primal urge and want and wrath. He gripped Theon’s neck crushing their lips together once again. 

“Robb” Theon managed to moan before Robb pushed his tongue inside his mouth again, slamming his back hard against the edge of the table. This time Theon wanted to groan with pain if Robb just would let go of his mouth for a second, but instead he pressed himself further against Theon and kissed him as if he wanted to eat him alive.

Theon could feel it. Robb’s rock hard cock pressing right against his hip. Somehow in a strange way this made him proud. That Robb…Robb Stark, Lord of Winterfell, king in the north and by the way the most handsome man not only in the seven kingdoms but in the whole world( in Theon’s opinion) wanted him. That he got hard like that because of Theon. His own erection was painfully restricted by the tightness of his breeches, but before he could open them himself he suddenly felt Robb’s hand firmly seizing his crotch.

There was blank want and desire in his face. Nothing more. Just this pure urge… Theon had seen this look on his king’s face some times already. Back when he wasn’t his king yet. When he weren’t even his Lord. Just the son of the Lord of Winterfell. Just that. It’s the same look. Except it isn’t. There is something missing. And there is something more. It’s darker, angrier. The abandon is gone. 

Theon wanted to add something, just something. Something he can’t even remember anymore when suddenly Robb tightened his grip causing Theon to draw in a sharp breath.

A vicious grin appears on Robb’s face but no word comes over this perfect, red, kiss-swollen lips. It’s like a silent statement, a silent question and Theon knows, he knows that Robb wants him to answer. But he couldn’t. He just couldn’t.

His throat just wouldn’t let any words out he could only thrust his hip into Robb’s hand, desperately longing for his touch on his cock through his breeches.

Robb didn’t like Theon’s silence. Theon could see it in his eyes. They burned right through him, like cold icy fire. The fire of winter. ‘The fire of the North,’ it suddenly had crossed Theon’s mind, but before he could utter his thought there was a sudden pain, screaming in his head.

His head thudded hard against the wood of the war council-table as Robb gripped his throat with his free hand throwing him down. His feet barely could keep contact with the ground but more importantly was that he couldn’t breathe. Theon tried touching Robb’s face, to push his hand away but it only tightened its grip.

“Justice.” Robb hissed through his teeth. “It’s justice!!” He screamed releasing Theon’s throat all of sudden. Theon rolled on his side, choking and coughing, fingering his throat, while trying to get back on his feet.

“Is it Robb?” He managed to whisper despite the coughing and immediately Robb’s hand were back on his body, lifting him up on to the table “Is it jus- Gods! – Is it justice?” 

‘I gotta tell him that I lied, after’ he thought as he saw the short flickering of hurt in Robb’s eyes. Of course Theon lied. If he had doubt in Robb’s causes he wouldn’t let him march to war. …Would he?

“Shut up!!” Robb commanded and ripped in the same breath the laces of Theon’s breeches apart. Somewhere in the back of his head Theon knew that he could hardly walk back to his tent in torn breeches but seriously…right now…he couldn’t bring himself to think about anything but Robb. Fucking Robb who just threw his boots into one corner of the tent and now tugging of his breeches completely.

He shivered a bit as his painfully hard cock got exposed to the chilly night air. But the cold was nothing against the heat of arousal building up in his stomach as Robb crushed their lips together once again, basically fucking Theon’s mouth with his tongue while his hands half laced and half ripped Theon’s doublet open. 

Robb pushed closer, pinning Theon down on the table like he did one time back in Winterfell, when they had sneaked in the great hall at night and Robb had taken him like a cheap kitchen wench on the table, where his family had dined just a few hours ago. Alone this fact had raised the excitement of the two boys to infinity.

They locked eyes for a moment and Theon opened his mouth to say something, he didn’t even know what, but before he could utter a single word the moment was gone and he heard Robb say “Grey Wind, guard the tent.”

The giant direwolf trotted from the corner of the tent where he had been napping towards the entrance of the tent. As he passed Robb, Robb casually petted the wolf’s head as if he were touching a cat and not a beast which height almost reached his shoulders by now.

The second the wolf had left the tent Robb was on Theon again, kissing him fiercely and seizing his body with his hands. As Robb’s hand closed around Theon’s cock he tried to keep it down, tried to concentrate but when Robb gave him another firm stroke he was too far gone to care. Theon made a desperate, needy sound causing Robb to grin viciously, more like a wolf baring his teeth than a human smile.

It was then that Robb grabbed Theon’s hip with one hand, keeping him down, hard enough to leave bruises and started fumbling with his other to open his own breeches. Theon groaned impatiently but he doesn’t dare to assist Robb, doesn’t even dare to say something. Not now, not tonight. It’s too important for Robb to understand. To understand that he can use Theon. That he doesn’t have to bear the weight of his crown alone.

It didn’t take Robb long to open his laces and let his breeches slide to his knees but it felt like an eternity for Theon. Gods how he had missed Robb’s touch! Since they’ve been marching to war encounters like that had become few and fewer. But now he was there and when Robb spread his legs forcefully to finally finally push his cock into Theon, Theon couldn’t help but moan like a cheap whore. 

The harsh movement hurt, of course it hurt, considering the fact that Theon was completely unprepared but the sensation of having Robb’s cock inside him after so long was simply overwhelming. Without thinking he wrapped his legs around Robb’s back to get him closer, ignoring the burning pain in his hips and the cold of the blank metal of Robb’s armor which he hasn’t bothered to take off made contact with his bare skin.

Robb groaned and rolled his hips earning another moan of Theon. But it’s not enough. It’s not what Theon wants. What he knows Robb needs. Feeling Robb thrust hard into him Theon managed to sit up, his back aching from the hard table under him. He knew Robb wouldn’t like that but that was the whole point. Quickly he slung his arms around Robb’s neck bringing his mouth close to his king’s ear.

“Come on!” he hissed though his teeth. “Is that everything?”

His vision blurred for a second when his head hit the table hard but before Theon could think again Robb slammed back into him making him arch but Robb didn’t give him time to catch his breath he continued to fuck Theon like there was no tomorrow. He sat a rhythm of fierce, hard and fast thrusts and Theon thinks ‘Yes Robb! Yes come on! This is it. Your madness, your weakness, your doubt, your hate put it all inside me. I can take it!’

And he did. Theon let Robb basically fucking him into the table, ignoring the pain in his back and his loins. But still he cried out when he come, his scream muffled by Robb’s hand on his mouth. A few hard rocks into his limp body Robb followed him over the edge, collapsing on top of Theon.

They lay in silent, waiting for their breathing to return to normal as Theon unconsciously brought his hand up, running his fingers through Robb’s sweaty auburn curls. In an instant Robb rolled off Theon, standing up, avoiding Theon’s eyes while he tugged his breeches back up and rearranged his clothes. Theon watched him quietly, listening to the pounding of his own heart before he sat up, ignoring the pain in his hip.

“Robb?” he began gently waiting for the other to turn around because Robb was still facing away from him. But Robb didn’t react and so Theon continued “You know that I was lying, right?”

“Hm?” Robb turned around ruffling his hair anxiously while biting his lip in this cute way Theon loved so much.

“I don’t doubt your case. I really don’t.” He locked eyes with Robb, who looked at him in confusion. “I lied.”

“Why?” Was Robb’s simple reply. Theon had to fight down a chuckle. Robb had never been one who wasted unnecessary words. “Why did you- Theon what I did just now was-“

Theon cut him off. He didn’t want Robb to apologize. He wanted Robb to understand. “You needed to convince yourself. Not me. I did it for you.”

Robb frowned in confusion which was soon replaced with a mix of sadness and anger when his mind caught up with what Theon had said “That’s stupid. You can’t let me do that to you in order to help me. I’m a grown man now. I’m a king. I must act like a man and a man can’t do…that. I cannot treat you like-“

“That’s right. You are a king. And a grown man….at least for the men out there. But there is still a part of the boyish Robb left, you know? And Robb…I know this part. I’ve known you since we both were little boys and I know that you can’t deal with all that alone. That’s why I am here, I-“

“I am NOT weak!” Suddenly Robb was close again, he had gripped the collar of Theon’s doublet pulling his face close so they were only mere inches apart now.

“I never said that.” Theon said firmly, placing his hand over Robb’s before gently loosening the other’s cramped grip. “I would never say that, Robb.” Silently he interlaced their fingers before kissing Robb’s forehead. Robb looked down on their joined hands and his long eyelashes (seriously how could a man have such beautiful eyelashes?) casted shadows on his flushed cheeks.

“I just want to go home… “Robb finally admitted meeting Theon’s eyes by looking up since Theon was still sitting on the table while Robb stood in front of it. “Yes I know. Everyone wants to go home….but…”

“No…” Theon said breaking away from Robb’s eyes. “Not everyone.”

Robb frowned, beholding Theon carefully “What do you mean?”

“I don’t.” Simple as that Theon said it. The words lingered between them while neither of them said a word for several moments. When Robb finally opened his mouth Theon cut him off. “When the war is over, this” he made a gesture roaming the space between them, “will be over. You gonna go home. And you gonna marry that Frey girl. She’ll be your queen and you will rule over the North from Winterfell. Together with her. But what’s with me Robb?” he couldn’t help the tremor in his voice as he continued “What’s with me? Where will I go? What will I do?”

“You…you are going to be Lord of the Iron-islands. What you always wanted….” Robb answered giving him a half-hearted smile and Theon tried to smile back, but he knew by the way Robb’s face changed into deep concern that it didn’t work.

“I’m not so sure this is what I want any longer….”

And this was when it began to dawn on Robb. He bit his lip once again, withdrawing his hand from Theon’s. “Theon…” he said harried, avoiding the other’s eyes.

“I know.” Theon responded while lifting himself off the table, wincing inside by the sensation of the cold ground on his bare feet. “I know.” He whispered again this time more to himself than to Robb who still stood by the table staring at the table lost in thought. Just right after he had put on his second boot Robb broke the uncomfortable but well-known silence between them. 

“We are going to be like my father and King Robert.” He said with a weak smile on his lips that wouldn’t even convince a three years old. “Our friendship will keep it all together. You on the Ironislands and me in the North. It’s going to be good. We are going to be good.”

“Sure. Good.” Theon said hardly able to hide the disappointment in his voice. But it could be great. He thought. WE could be great.

No stupid. There is nothing you and Robb could ever be. The voice in his head whispered. You knew it from the start. Robb would marry some girl and so would you. And you both would be Lords. As it was meant to be. As it was right.

But why did the right feel so fucking wrong?

Another world…another time…maybe…

Theon hesitated for a moment before putting his cloak on and adding quietly “Sometimes I wish this war would never end.”

Then he left.

**Author's Note:**

> Uhm guys alright...I haven't written much fanfiction so i don't know it it's good. Let me know okay? please? feedback?


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